


For Loving One

by Caffeine_Chaos243



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Alternate Universe, Alternate Universe - Dark, Alternate Universe - War, Angst, Character Death, Depressed Dean, Depressed Dean Winchester, Destiel - Freeform, Doctor Castiel, Fluff, Forbidden Love, Grieving, Inspired by Photography, M/M, Sad, Soldier Dean, Triggers, Tumblr Prompt, Vietnam War
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-09-12
Updated: 2017-09-12
Packaged: 2018-12-27 02:24:32
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 7,993
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12071709
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Caffeine_Chaos243/pseuds/Caffeine_Chaos243
Summary: Soldier Dean has been at war for years, trudging through every hellish day.  It isn't until an accident forces him to the medical tent that he meets the new field medic for his platoon, and his life changes.





	For Loving One

**Author's Note:**

> This was inspired by the photo further down.

                Dean rolled out of bed. Literally. He landed with a painful _thump_ on the hardwood floor of his tiny bedroom. He clenched his fists and mumbled curses as he lay with his cheek pressed against the cool wood. His head hurt like hell and his body ached from another restless, nightmare filled night, but neither compared to the agony ricochetting through his left arm into his shoulder.

He opened his eyes and stared at the floor near his face. Directly across from him near the door he could see his work boots. Worn black leather was faded and caked in dirt. He hadn’t bothered to wash them in the week since he’d been home.

                He noticed one of the laces was frayed almost to the point of breaking. He didn’t really care though. He closed his eyes and took a deep breath, inhaling the musty scent of the unused room. He got his arms under him and pushed himself to his knees. With a grunt he stood and limped to the bathroom, his thigh aching slightly.  

                The bathroom door shut with a heavy _bang_ and Dean jumped. His heart tried to fly from his chest as he looked around for the danger. Once he realized what the sound had been he reached for the sink with shaky hands. The water was lukewarm, no matter how he turned the handles. He used the water to wash his face and neck. His bare chest was littered with scars and some still fresh wounds. _I’ve had worse._

                He dried off with the scratchy towel that hung over the toilet and left the bathroom, using a stool to prop open the door. He went to his closet for a change of clothes, before remembering he had nothing. He stared at the empty space and tried to figure out what to do. He knew his green khaki fatigues were filthy and ripped. He needed real clothes before he visited…him. He’d waited too long already but he would not show up in such shoddy condition after so long apart.

                Dean pulled on his white undershirt and his heavy green jacket. There were still bloodied holes from the bullets that had blown through. He closed his eyes and focused on stilling his shuddering hands. He pulled the jacket on and grabbed his wallet before leaving his apartment.

                It had been a quick find. He had nowhere else to go, and his heart had tugged him here. The apartment was shit but it worked to eat, sleep, and piss in. Dean held the door open for a woman who huffed at him. He sighed and stepped outside.

 

***

11 months earlier.

 

                It had been an accident. Dean’s fault, but still an accident. He hurried towards the medic tent with his buddy, Al, in his arms. Al was trying his damnedest not to cry out, just as Dean was trying his hardest not to jostle the man.

                Dean burs through the flap of the tent and called out. “Someone help! Help him!” He said as he walked towards the nearest exam table. He set Al down and felt a wave of guilt at the amount of blood seeping from his friend’s leg. Dean looked around to yell again, but the doctor was hurrying towards them.

                Dean forgot about his buddy as the doctor approached. He was almost as tall as Dean, but less muscled. He wore a white t-shirt but had a loose, green vest on over it. Some of the pockets bulged while others appeared empty. The doctor looked up at Dean briefly, flashing impossibly blue eyes, before firmly moving Al’s hands away from his leg.

                “What happened? Are we under attack?” The doctor spoke in an even, gravelly voice. Dean found himself shaking his head.

                “No, sir.” He answered automatically. The doctor glanced up at him and briefly squinted before getting Al’s pant leg untucked from his tall boots.

                “It was an accident.” Dean continued, feeling like a fool. “We were setting up trip wires and one was too tight. It snapped and caught Al.”

                “I see.” The doctor leaned over and inspected the bloody wound. Dean looked away. He felt sick.

                “I need to rinse this and it will require stitches. You’re lucky though.”

                “How the fuck am I lucky?” Al spit as his white-knuckled grip loosened on the table when the Doctor stopped touching him. Dean watched the Doctor stand tall and direct a glare towards Al.

                “A quarter inch deeper and it would have hit bone. You’re lucky that didn’t happen.”

                Al closed his mouth as the Doctor walked across the long tent to a wall of supplies. Dean watched him go. Al was mumbling to himself and Dean tried to pull his attention away from the doctor so he could chew him out, but the next words out of Al’s mouth stopped him.

                “Damn fag. Don’t know why they even let him in the army.” Al spat on the floor. Dean stared at him. _Does he really think about people like that?_ Dean hasn’t seen that side of his friend before. He glanced at the doctor. _Is he gay?_  He bit his tongue and looked back up as the doctor turned around. _What would Al say about me then?_

 

***

 

Present Day

 

Dean walked through the store. Anxiety was picking away at him with every noise that reached his ears. He set his jaw and tried to find the men’s section. _Children’s laughter shouldn’t make me want to seek cover._ He jumped when a voice spoke right behind him. _Shit I didn’t hear them approach._ He turned to the sales associate who was smiling kindly at him.

                She was probably Dean’s age. Her pink dress fell to right below her knees. Her white shoes matched the thin belt around her waist. “Can I help you find something sir?” She asked softly.

                “Pants. Shirts.” Dean knew he sounded gruff, and probably looked like absolute shit. But she smiled and motioned behind her before turning and leading the way. Dean scanned all around him as they walked towards the back of the store. _There aren’t any exits from back here. If we get cut off from the front we can’t get out._ His heart started to race as he watched the dozen people milling around the store.

                “Sir?” The woman said for the third time. Dean looked back at her and a frown creased her brow.           

                “Are you okay, sir?”

                “I’m fine. Just need clothes.”

                “Tell me your size and I can help you find them quicker.” She offered warmly. Dean couldn’t focus. He closed his eyes as his heart sped away.

 

 

***

10.5 months earlier.

 

“Just breathe for goodness sake.” The doctor growled as he dug out bullet fragments from Dean’s thigh. Dean groaned against the pain and the doctor looked up. His blue eyes held Dean frozen and the burning in his thigh faded slightly.

                “Inhale. I’ll do it too, just follow me.” He took a long breath and Dean copied him. The doctor nodded his head to count the seconds as they slowly exhaled together. After several of those Dean felt a little better, but it wasn’t completely due to the breathing.

                “I need to get one more out. You need to keep breathing, okay?”

                Dean nodded. The doctor bent back over Dean’s leg and Dean closed his eyes and took a long breath, drawing it out for as long as he could. The image of the doctor staring at him came to mind and he welcomed the distraction as he felt the cold metal touch the inside of his leg again.

                Several weeks had passed since Al’s accident, and Dean found himself pulling away from his buddy. _He’s so vulgar and…dark._ Dean knew that the majority of his platoon were that way, but hearing them talk bad about the doctor that _literally saved all of their lives_ by pulling bullets from them and stitching their wounds just bothered Dean. He found himself offering kind smiles and thanking the doctor whenever they passed. Then when three of them were ambushed and Dean took a hit, he struck up a conversation to take his mind from the pain.

                “Wha- what’s your name?” He asked as he heard a _clink_ and the pressure and burning subsided.

                “Uh Doctor?” He replied. Dean opened his eyes and looked over at the man as he poured iodine into the leg wound. Dean hissed and tensed his hands on the edges of the table. “Sorry. You’ll be fine.”

                “I meant, what’s your real name.”

                The doctor looked up at him and studied Dean’s face for a moment before replying in a soft whisper. “Castiel.”

 

**

 

Present Day

 

Dean inhaled long and slow. After several deep breaths he opened his eyes to see the worried expression in front of him. “Sorry. I don’t know.”

                “We’ll have you try some on, okay?”

                “That will be good. Thank you ma’am.”

                Dean followed the woman around like a puppy as she gathered carious outfits for him. He continued breathing slowly and deeply, just so he wouldn’t leave without the things he came for.

                Someone bumped into Dean, and he jumped to the side. The man gave him a look before tugging on the woman’s arm.

                “Hey, where can I find cigarettes?” He asked gruffly. The woman looked at the meaty hand on her arm then up at the man.

                “I’m sorry, sir. We don’t sell those here.”

                “You have to know where I can get them. It’s your job.”

                “No, sir, cigarettes are not my job. Please let go of my arm.” She flashed him a smile but Dean could see panic in her expression. He was about to reach over and manhandle the guy out when he let go.

                “Fine I’ll go across the street.” He muttered with a glance to Dean. Dean relaxed his stance, not realizing he had risen to his full height to stare the man down. The woman thanked him silently as she turned to gather more shirts to try on.

 

***

10 months earlier

 

 

                “Hey faggot, why don’t you dig the latrine for us?”  Tim called out as his group passed by Castiel. Dean frowned at the back of Tim’s head.

                “That’s not my job.” Castiel replied smoothly as he continued on his way into his tent. Tim muttered vulgarities under his breath. Dean clenched his fists at his side and watched Tim’s foot steps to match them. As Tim’s booted heel lifted from the ground Dean swung his leg forward, and the toe of his boot connected with Tim’s heel. Tim stumbled forward, thrown off by the sudden forward motion of his leg. He landed in the dirt and turned around with a malicious glare for Dean, who smiled.

                “Sorry, man. I wasn’t watching.”

                Tim reached up for help to his feet but Dean walked around him, pretending to ignore it. He looked over to see Castiel watching him from the entrance to his tent. Castiel nodded, and Dean nodded back.

 

 

***

Present day

 

                Dean buttoned his dark green long sleeve before he tucked it into the waist of his khakis. He buckled the simple belt the woman had found for him before kneeling to tuck his pant legs into his tall combat boots. That was one habit he wouldn’t lose from his years in the army.

                Dean left the store with a small bag of his old clothes and several new outfits. Most of his money for the month was gone already, but it had to be done. He headed down the street towards the flower shop on the corner.

                The bell jingled and put Dean’s nerves on edge. He tried to take slow breaths as the smells of the shop hit him. He startled when he heard his name.

                “Dean? ”

 

 

***

 

9 months earlier

 

                “Dean!?” Al yelled from wherever he was trapped. Bullets whizzed past Dean as he hunkered under the shelter of a fallen tree. His heart beat hard enough to hurt as he tried to keep his calm. Their colonel wasn’t responding and that meant Tim was in charge. He wasn’t responding either.

                “I’m okay!” Dean yelled once there was a break in fire. The bullets zeroed in on his tree again and he braced himself for the impact of steel to his back. And moment now…it would happen.

                “Someone help!” A frantic voice called out. Dean’s eyes snapped open and he peered on either side of him, but he couldn’t see anything besides the jungle they were in. _He sounded so close to the enemy fire._

                “Cas?” He called out but was met with silence. He called louder and once again bullets ricocheted off of the tree at his back. _It can’t hold up to this amount of fire. I need to move._

                “Dean on three!” Al yelled. _Shit shit shit._

                “1!”

                “2!”

                “3! Go!” Al yelled. Dean waited several seconds before the rumbling explosion of a grenade went off, then he rolled over the tree and ran. He took out three soldiers before he found the doctor. Castiel was huddled against an uprooted tree, half buried in the exposed roots. His medic backpack gave him away though.

                “Cas!” Dean yelled, worry gripping him that their doctor could be hurt. Cas looked up and Dean sighed. He reached down and hauled Castiel to his feet. Castiel was looking around and gripping Dean’s jacket so Dean reached up and shook him a little to get his attention.

                “Are you hurt?” He was gripping Castiel’s shirt in his fist, his other hand on his rifle. Cas shook his head. “Then why the fuck are you out here?”

                “I came to gather some herbs.”

                Dean narrowed his stare. “By yourself? What kinda of idiotic idea was that? I thought you were smart.”

                “I didn’t think anyone would come with me.”

                “You walked into a frickin’ ambush, doc.”

                “I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to put your platoon, or you, in danger.” He said softly with a downcast gaze. Dean realized he was still holding Castiel’s shirt when Al finally caught up to him. _Or you._

                “We got those fuckers. Nice shot, Rifle.” Al said, clapping Dean on the back. Dean tried not to roll his eyes at the nickname. Al caught sight of Castiel then and he glared.

                “Why the hell are you out here, faggot?” He said. Dean released Castiel’s shirt and spun on his heel. He shoved Al backwards but followed him so he was in the shorter man’s face.

                “Stop calling him that.” Dean growled lowly. Al turned his glare to Dean.

                “What do you care?” Al asked. His black hair was soaked with sweat and dripping in his eyes. Dean knew his own bandana wasn’t going to hold his sweat much longer either.

                “Leave the man alone. He’s saved your life.”

                “Yeah whatever, Winchester.”  Al brushed Dean’s hands away and stalked off.

                “Thank you, Dean.” Castiel said softly once Al was out of ear shot. Dean turned back around.

                “Next time you need to go somewhere, I’ll go with you. Just ask.” He said before he motioned him to follow.

 

 

***

Present Day

 

                “Is that you?”  He turned to find a woman calling out towards him. He didn’t recognize her at all. He shifted uncomfortably, but she was striding towards him. He opened his mouth to speak when a man’s voice called out behind him.

                “Yeah, Grace it’s me. I’m sorry I’m late.”

                Relief washed through Dean as he stepped to the side and let her pass. He avoided looking at the couple as he walked to the counter. A man nodded to him before he set his bouquet down and approached.

                “Can I help you sir?”

                “Uh yeah.” Dean reached up to rub the back of his head. _Well not I feel stupid. We were just at war for years. No one is going to sell Vietnamese flowers._

                “Uh, I need something that looks like a wildflower I guess.”

                The man gave Dean a look he couldn’t decipher. _Probably thinks I’m a dumbass._ He disappeared into the back room of the shop and returned with several different types of flowers. A dark blue one caught Dean’s attention immediately.

                “Any of these work?” The man asked. Dean nodded.

                “Can I get a bundle of the dark blue ones?”

                “Sure. Need a card or them wrapped?”

                “Oh uh no. Thank you, sir.”

                The man nodded and took the flowers into the backroom. Dean took another breath and leaned looked around at the colorful shop. He’d never really cared for flowers that much, but that had changed.

 

***

8.5 months earlier

 

                “We need to MOVE NOW!” The colonel screamed at the platoon. Dean threw his gear onto his bag and booked it after the others. He was almost out of their camp, just passing the medical tent, when he heard the roar of an engine. He looked up to find the bomber flying low over the trees, probably already zeroed in on the camp.

                He got past the tent and looked ahead, doing a rough tally in his mind. _Shit._ He recounted as his steps slowed. _Shit shit._ He cupped his hands to his mouth.

                “COLONEL! WHERE IS THE DOC?” He hollered. The colonel turned around.

                “I don’t know, Winchester! Find him for fucksake!”

                Dean groaned and turned around. He found Castiel in the medical tent, hurriedly shoving things into a huge bag.

                “What the hell man!? We’re about to be bombed!” Dean yelled as he dropped his bag.

                “I need these supplies. People’s lives depend on them.” Castiel grunted as he tried to lift another bag at his feed. Dean rolled his eyes and stormed over.

                “Here.” He brushed past the doctor and grabbed the larger bag. “Shit, Cas.” He huffed as he hefted the bag.

                “How do you have this much stuff?”

                “I didn’t plan on having to move.” Castiel said. Dean realized then how close they were standing. Cas’s facial hair was thick and dark. Dean cleared his throat as the sound of the bomber broke into his thoughts. He reached up and grabbed Castiel’s shoulder and shoved him towards the exit.

                “Move. Let’s go.”

               

They barely made it past the safe zone before the ground rumbled as bombs fell on their camp. Dean knew they wouldn’t have been able to hold the spot, but it was worrisome that they had been found out. He glanced to his side to see the doctor huffing beside him.

                “You doing okay, doc?” Dean asked. Castiel looked up at him, then at the soldiers in front of them.

                “Yeah. I just realized I forgot my flowers.”

                Dean’s brow knitted in confusion. “Flowers?”

                “Yeah. I had a bunch I was going to cook up to have with supper tonight. They’re actually really good.”

                “Like…wild flowers? To eat?”

                Castiel nodded. “Yes, Dean. If I can find more I will make them for you.”

                Dean held the doctor’s gaze for a minute, neither looking away. After several moments, Castiel looked away. “Thanks for coming back for me, Dean.”

                “Anytime, man.” Dean looked back at the rest of the platoon with a smile. _Flowers to eat._ _Ha._

                His smile faded as he saw Al glaring back at him, glancing between him and the doctor.

 

 

***

 Present day

 

                “Here you are sir. I can ring you up over here.” The man said, pulling Dean from his thoughts. He pulled his wallet out, and two dog tags fell out. Dean picked them up and slid them back into their place. As he waited for his change, he rubbed at his chest where his dogtags had rested for two years. It felt weird to not have them.

                Dean took his flowers with a nod and left. He walked past the woman and other Dean on his way out. Neither glanced at him as he stepped onto the street and headed for the far edge of town. The road gave way to gravel as he walked, and the sound pulled him back again.

 

***

8.5 months earlier

 

                “So I eat it?” Dean asked as he stared at the cooked flowers on his little plate. Castiel stood over him and nodded proudly. The rest of the platoon had gone out on recon, leaving Dean to guard the camp and the doctor. Dean had snuck away almost immediately to the field across the road where he had spotted the kind of flowers the doctor had described two days before as they left their bombed camp.

                The smile on Castiel’s face when he was offered the flowers made Dean smile. He smiled again when he thought about it and took a tentative bite. His eyebrows shot up at the flavor.

                “HolyshitCastiel.” He mumbled around the bite. Castiel beamed at him and picked up his own plate.

                “I told you.”

                Dean watched the man eat. He kept finding reasons to stop by wherever the doctor set up his station. He had lost his tent and most of his bigger equipment, but he still had a lot. Dean continued his offer to carry it for him too. He knew he didn’t need to, he just wanted to. Castiel looked up and caught his gaze.

                “Why are you so nice to me, Dean?” he asked.

                “Because you’re a nice guy.” Dean answered without thinking.

                Castiel smiled down at his plate. “Well no one else in the platoon seems to think so.”    

                “They’re assholes. Ignore them.”

                “I try.” Castiel sighed and Dean found himself reaching over. His hand rested on Castiel’s knee, causing the doctor to look up sharply.

                “You’re better than them. Don’t let them get you down.”

                “Thank you, Dean. No one has said something that nice to me before.”

                “That’s bullshit.” Dean responded vehemently. “You save lives. Everyone should think the world of you.”

                “You save lives too.” Castiel said, looking up at Dean from under a wrinkled brow.

                “It isn’t the same.”

                Dean realized he was still grasping the doctor’s knee, but he hadn’t said anything, so Dean didn’t want to. He quietly withdrew his hand and finished the flowers and greens on his plate. He stood and went to rinse his plate in the stream they were camped by. After a moment, motion to his side caught his eye. He looked over to find Castiel kneeling beside him.

                “What made you want to be a field medic?” Dean asked as he washed his plate slower than necessary.

                “I want to help people. To make a difference. Some of my brothers disowned me when I came out. I ran away and joined the army. Lied to them about it, like I should have lied to my family.”

                _So he is gay._ “People are shitty. I’m sorry.”         

                “Thanks. It’s alright I guess. I’m just worried one of these days the colonel will take Al or Tim seriously and make me go home. I don’t have anything at home.”

                “Parents?”

                “No. Dad was pretty absent for most of my life. I don’t even know about my mom. My older brothers raised me and my little sister.”

                “You don’t talk to any of them?”

                “Just my big brother Gabriel.”

                “I have a little brother.” Dean offered as he sat back on his heels. Castiel looked over at him.

                “I always wondered what it would be like to have a younger one, instead of a sister.”

                “He was a pretty nice kid.”          

                There was a heavy pause in the air before Castiel spoke. “Was?”

                “He died when he was 14. I joined the army right after. I couldn’t deal with it.” Dean laughed awkwardly. He had never confessed that to anyone.  Castiel reached out a hand and rested it on Dean’s arm.

                “I’m sorry, Dean.”

                “It’s okay, Cas. It’s been almost five years now I think. Kinda hard to keep track out here.”

                Castiel’s expression hardened. “You’ve been fighting for that long?”

                “Yeah. I have nothing back in Kansas.”

                “I’m from Nebraska.” Castiel said, and Dean could tell he was just trying to prolong the conversation.  Dean smiled.

                “I’ve been there.”

 

                ***

Present Day

 

                Dean stopped once he reached the old, wooden fence. There was a line of trees on the right and far back sides, with several rows of tall oaks going through the middle. He couldn’t see the far end of the field through those trees, but that was where he needed to go. He opened the tall gates and stepped through.

                Dean tried not to stare as he walked down the winding gravel path. There were so many American flags, vases of flowers, and trinkets. He kept his gaze focused forward, determined to do the one thing he was here for and not get sucked into the guilt he felt at being alive.

                He was thankful when the sight of a tall flag carried his mind back in time.

 

***

7 months earlier

 

                “Ah a real bed. This is the life.” Dean said with a smile as he stretched out on the bed of leaves and grass he had made. Castiel chuckled from beside him where he rested on another.

                “I just need to find an American flag as a blanket. Nice and cozy.”

                “You won’t find any out here.” Castiel said with a yawn. It was late, and the rest of the camp was asleep. Dean smiled over at the man in the darkness, wishing for a fire so he could see his expression.

                A question had burned on Dean’s mind throughout the day. He wasn’t sure how to ask it, but he wanted to. He looked back up at the star lit sky and chewed on the words for a while. He felt himself dozing though, until Castiel’s whisper startled him.

                “What are you going to do when you’re home?”

                “That’s a cliché question, Castiel.” Dean chuckled. In reality, he hadn’t even thought about it. It felt like the war would go on forever. He was thankful he hadn’t been old enough to enlist or be drafted for it any longer though. Thankful Sammy didn’t have to deal with this hell.

                “You don’t have to answer, sorry.” Castiel’s apologetic whisper pulled Dean’s thoughts back on track.

                “I haven’t thought about it. What about you?” He could tell by Castiel’s immediate response he had been waiting for Dean to ask.

                “I want to start a clinic. Help veterans and the poor. Provide medical care for them when they can’t afford it.”

                “That’s amazing, man.”

                “If I can do it. I’m hoping I’ll have enough money from my years of service here to get it going.”

                Dean stayed silent though. He wasn’t sure what he was feeling besides the desire to see Castiel succeed with his dream. He wanted to witness the man saving more lives. Maybe be a part of it. He closed his eyes and tried to focus on something else. . He could hear the snores of others from the others further away. He had chosen this spot on purpose, and he knew he would get more grief from it. Al had been increasingly more belligerent to them both, making Dean hesitant to leave the doctor unguarded for fear of attack. He felt alienated from the camp so he could be nearer the doctor, but he didn’t really care. He had come to find Castiel’s company more preferable than anyone else in the platoon. The question he’d been harboring all day returned to him.

                “Why did I see my name on one of your letters to Gabriel?” He finally asked softly.

                “Oh uh, I told him about how you saved me.” Castiel shifted quietly on his grass bed.

                “You can send letters out here?”

                “No, I’m saving them until I can mail them out.” Dean could hear the smile on his lips. “I promised him I’d write.”

                “Is he fighting too?”

                “He’s disabled. He lost his leg and the army refused him.”

                “How do you lose a leg?” Dean asked out loud, eliciting a laugh from the doctor. He smiled in response. _That’s a beautiful sound._

                “He was hit by a car. It got infected and they amputated it.”

                “Well that sucks.”

                “Yeah but he makes the best of it. He owns a business and likes to tell everyone his wings were taken from him. Great conversation starter.”      

                “Why wings?”

                “Because he used to run. He delivered mail and stuff all over town. He was proud to be the fastest. He was doing that when he was hit.”

                “At least he can keep a positive attitude.” Dean mumbled. He wondered what Sammy would be doing if he were alive. If they hadn’t been dragged into the war.

                “I just gotta get these letters to him. A lot has changed in the last few months.” Castiel spoke softly. Dean could hear the crinkle of paper and he smiled.

                “How so?” Dean asked. He froze when a warm hand touched his in the dark. The long fingers slipped between his and he closed his eyes at the touch.

                “I agree.” He offered simply as a smile ghosted across his face and Castiel squeezed his hand.

 

**

Present Day

 

                Dean looked around. _It has to be here._ He searched the tombstones for the one described in the letter that was neatly tucked away in his wallet. _A dark stone that was surrounded by a beautiful reminder at the far end of the cemetery._

                Dean walked between the rows, searching the names. Nothing was familiar. He didn’t expect it to be. He’d driven through Nebraska, but he had no ties there. His walking led him to a twist in the path. He looked up to find the path go slightly downhill. He followed it and was surprised to see a gorgeous cherry blossom tree in full bloom. He continued towards it, the rows growing sparser as he walked down the red gravel path.

                There were a few headstones around, but a decent sized black one caught his eye. He took a steadying breath as he walked up to it. The front held an inscription, but the fallen blossom petals covered some of it. He leaned down and brushed them away.

               

Dr. Castiel Novak

1946-1975

 

Dean stared at the little dash between the years. _His whole life is in that dash. All those he saved. Lives he changed. His whole existence just written away with a dash._ There were no flowers, nothing to show people had been there. The dirt atop the casket was still fairly fresh. It had only been two weeks. Dean steeled himself before continuing to read. He felt tears spring to his eyes and he futilely tried to blink them away as he read the lines beneath the name. He sank to the ground and hid his eyes behind his hand as the tears fell freely to the petal covered ground.

 

 

***

7 months prior

 

                “They’re going to find us, Dean.”  Castiel said from where he was pressed against the wall. Dean shrugged.

                “I’ll shoot em.” He pressed a kiss to the doctor’s lips.

                “They’re your men.”

                “Don’t care.”

                Castiel smiled into another kiss, but then they heard footsteps and the colonel’s voice. Dean jumped backwards as he shook his hand as if it stung.

                “Damn, Novak. You’re supposed to fix people not make things worse.” He said, going along with the story Castiel had urged him to use if they were caught.

                “I had to pop it back into place, Winchester. Stop being a baby.”

                “Yes sir.” Dean said, using the eye not facing the colonel to wink. Castiel saw it and bit back a smile.

                “Winchester.” The colonel barked. Dean turned to face him with a straight back.

                “Yes sir?”

                “This town is cleared. We can set up shop here tonight and be on our way to the new camp by morning.”

                “Sir, yes sir.”

                “The doctor doesn’t need help setting up. Go help Gonzales and Johnston.”

                “Yes sir.” Dean started off, but risked a glance over his shoulder. He couldn’t hear what the colonel was telling Castiel, but it was making him frown. It took a lot of self-control not to turn around and defend the doctor.

 

Later that evening, they started a fire despite some opposition. The colonel grinned at the boys. “We finally have walls, ladies. Rejoice.”

                He downed a bottle of something and Dean shook his head. He eyed Castiel from across the room. A lot had changed between them in the past two weeks. He knew they were moving fast, but he honestly never knew when his time would come. He used to not care either. Dean was eager for his lookout shift. Castiel always found him and patrolled at his side, no matter the time of night.

                Their conversation the night before had been pretty dark. Dean didn’t like to discuss the likelihood of him dying, but he found he didn’t like to talk about the doctor dying even more. He was determined to have this night end on a happier note.

                When it came time for Dean’s patrol, he eagerly took over for Al. He hurried off into the night and waited for Castiel to arrive. The firelight was just barely flickering  between the buildings from where he started his rounds, but he could see it. He started walking, peering into the darkness for the familiar form to appear.

                After several minutes a figure appeared behind him. He turned with a smile. His greeting turned to a yell as a sharp blade stabbed at his abdomen. He reached down and pulled the bayonet from his body and shoved it backwards.

                “ATTACK! UNDER ATTACK!” He yelled as he dodged another jab. He leveled his rifle and fired off a short burst, catching the man in the face. The attacker fell to the ground as startled yells sounded from camp moments before gunfire filled the night. Dean could hear the different sounds of the weapons. His abdomen gushed a steady flow of blood as he turned and sprinted for camp, hoping Castiel was okay.

                The camp was chaos. Dean ducked into a building and climbed so he had a better vantage point. It was so hard to see in the dark though. He watched for a moment to try and orientate himself, to discern enemy from friendly. He noticed the enemy’s rifles had a slightly bigger flash when they fired. He aimed for those. He jumped when shots began firing from a building opposite of him and he silently thanked whichever soldier was following his lead.

                After what felt like hours, the gunfire stopped. Several men were moaning in pain, and one screamed only to be silenced by the flash of a rifle. Dean ducked his head and tried to calm his hammering heart. He stood and hurried down the stairs, keeping a watchful eye out for more attacks.

                By the time he had gathered his platoon, save four he was starting to panic. He had yet to find Castiel. He was about to ask when Al limped up to him.

                “Where’s the colonel?”

                “Missing.  Three others too, including the doc.”

                “Well fuck.” Al turned around. “COLONEL WHERE THE HELL ARE YOU?” He yelled into the night. Dean winced. _Great way to give up our location._

To Dean’s surprise, a hoarse voice called out from a nearby building. ”We’re in here!” Dean followed at Al’s heels, mindful of any motion around them and thankful for the men at his back. They stepped into the building and Al called the all clear. Dean rounded a corner and felt his breath leave in a relieved whoosh.

                Castiel was tying a bandage around Kent’s arm. The colonel was sitting against a wall, holding a wadded up shirt to his neck. Kenders and two other bodies weren’t moving. Castiel looked around and Dean saw his shoulders sag in relief.

                Dean stepped forward to say something, but Kent reached over and roughly shoved Castiel away. “Get off of me, asshole.” He said harshly. Castiel had fallen to his butt at the unexpected push. He pushed himself to his feet and with down cast eyes and went to the bag on the floor that was slightly away from the others. He shook his head very slightly towards Dean, but Dean almost ignored him. He was surprised when the colonel spoke up hoarsely.

                “You watch your mouth, Kent. He just saved both of our lives.” He turned around to Castiel and nodded. “You did good, son. You’re going to earn a medal for that.”

                Castiel nodded in thanks, but Dean knew he was floored by the praise. He wanted to talk to him. Needed to talk to him.

                “Uh doc, I think I took a hit. Can you check it out?” He asked as he walked outside. Castiel looked up before standing and following Dean. Dean led him around the outside of the building.  Cas reached for the bloody hole in Dean’s jacket but Dean grabbed his hand. He checked to make sure no one was near, then he crushed his lips to the doctor’s. When he pulled back, Castiel was breathing hard, but he tried to reach for Dean’s shirt.

                “Dean you’re hurt.”

                “I’m fine.”

                “No let me see it.” Castiel insisted, pushing Dean’s hands away and lifting the bloodied shirt. He inspected the cut before looking up, his face too close.

                “This needs attention right now. You are lucky if the blade didn’t perforate your intestine.”

                “I’m fine. I just need to know you are.” Dean brushed his fingers across the doctor’s shaky hands. _They’re always so steady._ He looked into Castiel’s eyes and Castiel frowned and looked down, momentarily leaning into Dean.

                “I can’t believe I killed two people.” Castiel whispered brokenly. Dean hugged him tight.

                “You saved lives, man. You’re a fucking hero.”

                “I know but-“    

                “So it is true.” The colonel’s voice was low. Dean and Cas jumped apart and spun to face him. He was leaning on the side of the building with a heavy frown. He looked to Castiel and his frown deepened.

                “I had hoped the men were just fucking with you and not serious.” He shifted his hazel gaze to Dean.  “I expected more from you, Winchester.”

                “Yeah well fuck you, John.” Dean spat. He knew the colonel hated to be addressed so disrespectfully.

                “You better watch your tone, boy.”

                “Or what?”

                “You won’t like the ‘or what’, trust me.”

                Dean held the colonel’s stare almost as hard as he grasped the hand in his.

 

**

Present Day.

 

Dean sank onto the grass. The tree above had scattered petals all over, and it was beautiful. He ran his hands over the words again, the same emotion hitting him just as hard as the first time he saw the inscription.

The tears on Dean’s cheek were drying as he felt the letters. He was thankful Gabriel had put this there. It had to have been him. He’s the only one who cared enough to reach out to Dean with the news. _Castiel would have wanted this to be known, even if it’s only to a quiet cemetery_. Dean’s heart ached as he touched the cold stone, his fingers stilling on the words “loving one”.

                _Oh, cas._

 

 

***

7 months prior

 

“DEAN!? Dean!” Castiel called out frantically. Dean jumped up from the tree he’d been resting against. They’d been on the move for days, trying to reach the evacuation point for their wounded. He was bone-tired and his abdomen burned fiercely from the extra exertion he’d been under.

                “I’m here!” He answered. Castiel appeared through the trees, his eyes wide.

                “Dean, this is it. I’m done. I can’t believe it, it isn’t fair!” He said in a rush as he reached Dean. He threw himself against Dean, who  hugged him back, surprised at the blatant physical contact in broad daylight.

                “Whoa, Cas slow down. What’s wrong?”

                “The colonel is sending me home. They’re discharging me.”

                “What!?” Dean pushed the doctor back. “What do you mean?”

                “I have to go home because I love you.” Castiel said in a shattered whisper. He had tears welling in his eyes and Dean reached up to wipe them away. Castiel closed his eyes at the touch, but some tears rolled free.

                “I’ll go with you.”

                Castiel opened his eyes. “You can’t. They’re transferring you to a new unit.”

                Dean tried not to harden his grasp on the doctor’s face. “Those fucking assholes.”

                Castiel winced, as if Dean had directed his statement towards him. “It’s my fault. I’m so sorry.”

                Dean moved his hand so he could grasp the doctor’s loose vest. “Listen to me, Castiel, this is not your fault. The only thing you did was be an intelligent, kind human being in this dark hell. You pulled me from that darkness.” He leaned down so Castiel had to look at him. “You saved me in more ways than one. Don’t you dare think I won’t find you again. Okay?”

                Castiel nodded. “I don’t want to go.”

                “You will go home, Castiel. You’ll start your clinic and you’ll make a difference. No one will give you shit for being yourself. You’ve given me something to live for. Something to look forward to, yeah? When I’m done I will come find you. I promise.”

                Castiel nodded again and hid his face in Dean’s shoulder. Dean held him closely, not caring if someone saw. Not if this was their last moment together for who knew how long. He reached for the chain around his neck.

                “Take these.”

                “I can’t.”

                “Yes. If I don’t come back then you’ll have them.”

                “Dean…”

                “Please, Castiel.” Dean begged quietly, closing his eyes tightly to fight the tears that wanted free.

 

***

Present day

 

“I’m sorry I took so long, Cas.” He whispered as his hand rested on the stone. “They kept me busy. It was scary at times and I honestly wasn’t sure I would make it.” He closed his eyes again. “I took a few bullets. One fucked up my arm. They kept me in though. It was bullshit. I could have been here a month ago.”

                “Then the war ended, we won I guess. But I feel so fucked up. I jump at every noise. I feel sick all the time.  I was over there so long I don’t remember how to act around people. I got home to my apartment in Kansas to find it rented out to someone else. I just…I don’t know what I’m supposed to be doing right now.”

                “I almost left right then and there but I stopped at the post office, hopeful for word from you. I had a bundle of letters waiting for me. Then I spent the first night back reading through as many as I could, drinking in your words as I laid on a bench at a park. It was like you were there with me again. I was ready to come up here before I got halfway through.” Dean was struggling to form words through the emotion burning in his throat. He swallowed and leaned his head against the stone. A ray of light shone through the tree tops and warmed his back, lending him strength to get the words out.

                “There’s so much I’ve wanted to say. I was so scared that I never heard from you. I sent letters but I didn’t know if they even reached you.” Dean took a steadying breath.

                “Gabriel had a letter at the bottom of the pile. He told me about the clinic. About your struggle with the others in the area. They’re all assholes, I’m sorry. I’m sorry I wasn’t here to defend you. I’m proud of you. I know it was hard.”

                Dean’s voice cracked as he recalled the scrawl on Gabriel’s letter. “How is it fair that you would go out like that? You always spoke about God and believing he had a path laid out for you. How is taking you like this part of your path? You’ve barely lived, man.”

                Dean was silent for several long minutes. He bit his lip and frowned at the ground. “Gabriel said no one could have known. He called it…an aneurysm? Or something? I can’t remember. I don’t know if that’s how you pronounce it. You would know. You were so smart.” He pictured Castiel telling him to breathe and followed the rise and fall of the ghost memory’s chest until the panic gripping his heart loosened.

                “I would have just left. I would have come here in a heartbeat if I knew. If I could have been here with you, I would have defected I don’t care. I should have been here with you, Cas.” He pictured Cas asleep on the grass mat he had made. Looking peaceful in the early morning light. _Was that how he looked when he died in his sleep?_

                Dean hung his head again. He cried, letting himself feel the pain and the guilt he’d been walling away for months. The fresh pain that had stabbed his chest as he read through Gabriel’s letter, five, six times. He pushed his hand into the dirt below him.

                “I love you, Cas.” He said, but it was barely audible over the wind that had picked up. Cherry blossoms fell on the breeze and landed on him, but he remained frozen in place.. “I’d give anything to see you again. I’d sell my soul just to hear your laugh. I miss you.”

                Dean sighed heavily. He clenched his fist in the dirt, hoping the texture would help ground him. “I’m going to get help for myself. I want to be better so I can follow the direction my life is taking now that I’m out of the military.”

                He couldn’t bring himself to admit he had considered ending his life after receiving the shot to his arm. Life had been so hard. He hadn’t heard a single word from Castiel. He was in pain and drunk and he’d been so low. The only thing that saved him was the knowledge that the doctor had spent his life trying to save people. Dean knew it would devastate him to give up.

                The breeze blew a little harder briefly before stilling. “I wanted you to know that I’ll be back to visit here. I know you believe this is just your body, but I don’t have anything else to hold onto. I have your tags, but that isn’t the same.  I’ll get a new chain and wear them. I’m thankful you wrote to Gabriel about us. I’m thankful he buried you in my tags.”

                “I’m going to find a new doctor and keep your clinic going. Someone that has the same ideals as you. I doubt they’ll be as amazing, but I’ll try.”

                “I’ll put everything I have towards the clinic, Castiel. I hope you don’t mind if I rename it. Your name choice kinda sucked.” Dean chuckled lightly, for the first time in weeks. “I want people to know who founded it.  They’ll know your name, and your story. I promise.”

                He lifted his hand from the dirt and traced the name once more. “I’m thankful I met you. You changed me. I won’t let your memory fade. People will forever know you as a hero. You are my hero, Castiel. I love you.”

                Dean took a steadying breath before pushing himself to his feet. He’d forgotten the flowers on the ground beside him. He gently placed them on the dirt in front of the headstone. “I don’t think these are edible, sorry. They reminded me of your eyes though.”

                Dean brushed is hand over the rough top of the black stone before he turned and walked away. His heart felt a little lighter, though he knew the pain would linger. He walked back through the cemetery towards the gates. As he pulled them open, something caught his eye. He looked to his side to find a line of blue wildflowers dancing in the breeze. He smiled down at them before looking up to the sky, knowing he had an angel watching over him.

               

 

**Author's Note:**

> Thank you for reading! Please review.


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